


Proof of Intimacy

by mezzo_cammin



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fingering, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-12
Updated: 2010-01-12
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:39:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mezzo_cammin/pseuds/mezzo_cammin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing was, John thought, even as Rodney turned him over, spread his ass cheeks, and started delicately licking all around John's hole, the thing about this was, he really should have known better than to challenge Rodney, especially when it involved their sex life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof of Intimacy

The thing was, John thought, even as Rodney turned him over, spread his ass cheeks, and started delicately licking all around John's hole, the thing about this was, he really should have known better than to challenge Rodney, especially when it involved their sex life. The damage was done now, though. Rodney was a man on a mission, and John would just have to suffer the consequences, one of which was Rodney's tongue stabbing inside him, slick-hard and relentless. Rodney was so good at this. So. Very. Good. John's hands clenched on either side of the mattress as he struggled for control, although he was unable to stifle the needy sound that escaped him when Rodney's tongue abruptly withdrew. He felt Rodney's lips on the base of his spine, the scrape of his stubble-roughened cheek as he rested his head there. The bed shifted suddenly as Rodney moved, and John craned his neck around to see Rodney squirting lube onto the fingers of his right hand. Rodney's other hand separated the cheeks with his broad, strong fingers, making room for his right index finger to move in and out of John's ass, circling, twisting, opening him up.

Rodney lifted his head and saw John staring at him, and he smiled briefly before returning to the task at hand, sliding his middle finger in beside his index finger, his expression focused and intent as he worked them carefully inside John's tightly puckered hole. Rodney was a firm believer in prepping John's ass thoroughly whenever he fucked him, and while John might appreciate his thoughtfulness later, right now he just wanted Rodney to get the hell on with it. John's toes curled where they hung off the mattress. He lifted his hips off the bed, wanting more, needing more.

"Rodney," John growled. "Fuck me already. C'mon, do it! I need -"

"Shhhhh," Rodney placed both thumbs on either side of John's entrance, and then pushed in, in, in. John sucked in a ragged breath. It was too much. It wasn't enough.

John was such an idiot.

He rose up on his elbows and let his head hang down, and if the sound that came from him then was more of a whimper than a moan, he was past the point of caring. Rodney withdrew his thumbs and squirted some lube on his left hand, using it to slick up his cock. John expected to feel Rodney's cock pressing into him any second now, but he had forgotten something important. 

Rodney had a point to make, a hypothesis to prove.

With what few remaining brain cells John still had firing away, he regretted the words he'd said to Rodney earlier. Oh, how he regretted them, even now, as Rodney turned him so that John lay on his side; even as Rodney hooked his hand under John's thigh and pulled it towards his chest, Rodney's thigh under John's; even as Rodney spooned up behind John and wrapped his other arm under John's shoulder and up across his chest so that Rodney was supporting most of John's weight; even as Rodney slowly, slowly pushed his hard cock inside John, filling him up and surrounding John with the warmth of his skin and the scent of his sweat; even with Rodney's hot mouth on John's neck, breathing the words John needed to hear, John regretted what he had said that brought them here, to this. Like this.

It had been a stupid argument, as so many of them were.

As Rodney put his mouth to John's ear and whispered, "You're an idiot," as he fucked into John so slowly, so perfectly, John admitted defeat. Rodney had definitely won the argument. John twisted his head so he was facing Rodney and let his eyes linger on Rodney's mouth as he moistened his own lips. John tried to pull Rodney's head down so he could reach his lips, but Rodney turned his head to the side and bit at John's neck instead, sucking and nibbling on the tendon there. Fuck. John closed his eyes and turned his head into the pillow. What more did Rodney want from him?

"John?" Rodney fisted his hand in John's hair and kept fucking him, slow, steady and deep. John had never felt this connected, so totally part of another human being. Ever. And yet - it wasn't quite enough. He needed something more, something Rodney still refused to give him.

"Yeah. Jesus, Rodney. Yeah. Come on. Just fucking fuck me -" he begged, and Rodney did. He fucked John harder and deeper, and while he fucked him, he cradled John in his arms, close to his heart, every stroke of Rodney's cock into John's body bringing John closer to the edge.

Not once did Rodney kiss John. The bastard.

The argument had gone something like this: They were watching Pretty Woman, because - well, mainly because Rodney had once said he thought John looked a little like Richard Gere, and also because Rodney couldn't believe John had never seen the movie, which was a fucking icon, he'd informed John as he slid the DVD in the laptop.

Anyway, Vivian had looked at Edward in this movie and said, 'I don't kiss on the mouth. It's too emotional. Too personal.' or some shit like that.

Rodney had snorted. "Yeah, let's state the obvious some more, why don't we? Please."

John had manfully refrained from reminding Rodney it had been his idea to watch this particular movie, so he could cut the snide commentary. He'd decided to yank Rodney's chain a little, though. Just for grins.

"Wait. You think she's right about that? Really?" John had goaded him.

"Of course I think she's right. Are you telling me you don't? "Rodney was turning on the bed to face John, trying to gauge how serious John was being. "Having sex is not the same without kissing. Obviously."

"And why is that, Rodney?" John had asked.

Rodney had shifted on the bed, not quite meeting John's eyes.

"Well, it'd be - impersonal. Kissing is - is, um - how one expresses one's - feelings. You know. If you can't actually say the words." He'd flushed a little, staring determinedly at the laptop before adding, "Without kissing, sex is just two people getting each other off. "

"Well, yeah, " John had been enjoying himself. Teasing Rodney was always fun. "Which is kind of the point of having sex, isn't it?"

"Sure. If you're a hooker." Rodney had folded his arms across his chest and glared at John.

"So, you're saying if you and I had sex, and we didn't kiss, it would be - what? Unemotional? Impersonal?"

"Exactly." Rodney had snapped his finger and pointed his index finger at John.

John had shaken his head, honestly perplexed. "I'm not buying it. A kiss is just…foreplay. Like rimming. It has nothing to do with emotions or how two people feel about each other."

"Of course it does." Rodney had been looking at John as if he didn't recognize him. "Kissing is - it's the most intimate thing there is."

"No, I'd have to say fucking is way more intimate than kissing."

"Well, then you'd be wrong." Rodney had stated with finality, as if the argument was now over because he'd spoken the last word.

"Oh, really?" John had arched an eyebrow.

"Yes. Really," Rodney had scowled.

John should have left it there.

Except. Except maybe John had been afraid Rodney was right. Or, maybe - maybe John had wanted Rodney to be right. After all, he and Rodney kissed all the time when they were having sex. John was pretty sure he even initiated it. Sometimes. Whatever his reason, John had looked into Rodney's eyes and said,

"Prove it."

Rodney had laughed. After all, they'd just been having one of their silly arguments over a stupid chick-flick, right? It was what they did. But John wasn't laughing and, all of a sudden, Rodney wasn't either, and then Rodney's chin had come up and his mouth had settled into a straight line, and he'd said, "Really? You need proof, John?"

John had shrugged, and then he'd nodded, because now that he thought about it? That was exactly what he needed. Proof.

"Fine, then. You're on," Rodney had huffed impatiently and started stripping John's clothes off and shoving things off the bed to make room for them.

Rodney had gotten them both out of their clothes, taking his sweet time doing it. He'd pushed John onto the bed and followed him down, kneeling over him. He'd run his hands appreciatively over John's chest, licked and bitten John's nipples before mouthing his way down John's belly to lick and suck John's cock. As usual, Rodney had gotten hard while blowing John. He'd muttered profanities into John's shoulder as he'd rubbed his cock against John's. Then he had flipped John over and licked, tongue-fucked, and fingered his ass until John was just this side of desperate. Now he was fucking John, hard and deep, just like John had said he wanted.

John was weightless and flying high, grounded only by Rodney's thick cock fucking into him and Rodney's panting breath in the crook of his neck, Rodney's fingers in his hair and Rodney's lube-slicked hand stroking John's cock, the sound of Rodney's voice, pleading, "John, John," over and over, and…

John broke.

He surged up, and Rodney's mouth was right there waiting for him, as hungry, demanding and willing, as ever, to give John exactly what he needed. Rodney's tongue plunged into John's mouth with reckless abandon, and John came, a living proof.

John shuddered and moaned and let himself go limp, knowing that Rodney had him. Would always have him. Rodney kissed John with a sweet, fierce ardor that took John's breath away and gave it back to him, time after time, until Rodney groaned John's name as he came, too, his cock buried balls deep inside of John, his lips still clinging to John's. Rodney was still, then, save for the quivering of his thighs and the harsh exhalation of his breath when John turned and pulled Rodney snug against him, John's lips skimming Rodney's cheek, soft and easy.

~~*~~

John got it, finally. It hadn't really been about the kissing at all. It had been about this. This damned intimacy that Rodney demanded and that John struggled to give him every single time. It was about John, giving himself up to Rodney, giving Rodney everything he had, despite himself. It was about Rodney, taking everything John gave him and giving himself to John in full measure. It was about them. It always had been.

John recovered first, and leaned up on an elbow, putting his other hand on Rodney's chest for stability. Rodney slitted his eyes open and looked at him.

"So. Rodney," John drew in a steadying breath as he sifted his fingers through the hair on Rodney's still heaving chest, "That was pretty intense."

"You needed proof, " Rodney said, and closed his eyes. He was smiling, though. "Of course, the scientific method demands the results be repeatable..."

"Rodney?"

"What?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for McSmooch - thanks to Mischief for wonderful beta and help with internal logic as well as the ever-helpful "where's the lube?" question. :)


End file.
